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What you feel, what you say, what you do,
It doesn't matter and it does matter
When you've fame and stardom as your ***** friend.
People will only remember those who remember themselves.
Your talent, your wisdom, your hard work
Are all going to waste, if you don't flourish them.
Millions has gone, billions came.
Humans are the smartphones, a new model replaced the oldest one.
The face that liked today, will hate tomorrow
In whatsapp, facebook, twitter.
The parties, games and the coffee houses,
The precious days so-called "still eighteen" you lose.
Yay! Give them farewell!
And celebrate the ownership of a new house,
Where you're renting and raising two fish from your own account.
This poem is a message to all the adolescent students, who are distant from the bitter realities of life, enjoying their social media (an imaginary world) and dreamed for their prosperous future. The title itself is juxtaposed, the word 'Still' suggest motionless and 'Eighteen' is a period where multiple transformation occurs, physically as well as mentally. Fish is a metaphor of intelligence and profound awareness . In Latin Christian symbology,  the fish is related to Christ.
In your pearly eyes
I see the twinkling night skies
Visibility is a choice,
But it's a choice I make for me
And for my siblings without a voice.

Many years I let my secrets brew,
Bubbling up an intense anxiety.
I trusted little with few.

I can't do that anymore.
I've bared my soul to the world,
And I won't shut that door.

Friends and family confided
In me their own pains--
Their inner world benighted.

Some said I empowered
Them to show themselves:
Seeing how I flowered.

Years I feared being me
Would hurt those I loved.
Instead I set them free.
I'm feeling kinda sick today
I sneeze at the slightest breeze that comes my way
My face is all droopy like clay
I have to cover my mouth before the germs spray
I just can’t do me today
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